


One Year Later

by sindubu



Category: So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation
Genre: F/F, Gen, mentions of ot9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:45:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3860614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sindubu/pseuds/sindubu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I planned to say all these terrible things to you, but in the end, I just want to tell you I miss you.” Jeti, twelve months later at an awards show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Year Later

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Jessica and Onew's duet. Clearly I don't love myself with these headcanons.

She wonders if Jessica had ever thought about the things she’d say when this moment finally came. Tiffany wonders if her answer changed depending on who she saw first -- if she’d reach for Yoona or Seohyun like she had so many times before, like she would for her own sister. If she’d tell Sunny _I got the message, thanks_ from her radio show months ago. If she’d say anything to Taeyeon at all.

She wonders, most of all, if Jessica had ever thought about what she’d say to her. Tiffany knows she has. Jessica looks her now, though, one hand gripping the bathroom counter for support, and Tiffany can’t remember anything she’d wanted to say. 

She’d wanted to say so much, but it’s too much. It’s too much seeing Jessica again, and I’ve gone through enough, Tiffany thinks. She’s spent too many nights with a tear-stained pillowcase to feel this overwhelming ache again. Over the months, the pain had dulled down to something miniscule, barely noticeable -- but by being in the same room as Jessica, alone and with no fight in her (and hadn’t she thought the worst things, though? Hadn’t she planned to say them all if given the chance?), it’s like all her acceptance over the situation has long taken flight. 

Tiffany thinks fleetingly over her brother, how his voice had carried low and weary over the phone once, his _If a broken bone doesn’t heal the right way, a doctor has to break it all over again to fix it. You know that, right?_ It’s the same thing, she realizes, with a broken heart. 

Because she’d literally rehearsed what she’d say at one point, practicing in front of a mirror and sometimes -- sometimes -- an exhausted Taeyeon. 

_Fany-ah,_ she’d say sometimes, an exhausted sadness etched into her expression. She wouldn’t need to say anything else. It wasn’t like the others weren’t having a hard time adjusting, too. She’d listened to the notes of sorrow in Hyo’s scathing drunken rants, the way her anger bled dry into her grief. She’d caught the awful pause during prayer with Soo, the brief silence before the _and please, bless Jessica, too_ after naming the rest of the members. 

But Tiffany -- _Tiffany,_ Taeyeon had whispered once, as though the saying the words hurt her as much as knowing Tiffany needed to hear them, _she’s not coming back._ Jessica wouldn’t be coming back to hear all the things she had wanted to say to her, she knows Taeyeon meant. And she was right. 

It didn’t mean she wouldn’t get the chance, one day. Today. 

She can’t remember what she’d wanted to say, today. 

_I miss you. I’m sorry. I miss you. I still look for you next to me. I miss you. I miss you._

It takes a moment for her to realize Jessica’s speaking, to make the connection that Jessica is speaking _to_ her. 

“Tiff,” Jessica says softly, her voice like chimes caught in the wind, and I miss you, Tiffany wants to say, “Are you -- ” She breaks off and worries her lower lip with her teeth, and Tiffany gets it, she does. 

“Yeah,” she breathes back just as soft; she swallows back against a dry throat -- she’s okay. It’s not a lie to make Jessica feel better. She’s okay. 

_But I’ve always been better with you._

“Is that -- ” and now it’s Tiffany’s turn to cut off, taking a closer look at Jessica’s gown. It’s familiar in a distant way; she’d seen sketches of it long ago, nothing more than pencil marks on paper on a lazy day she’d spent most of her afternoon with her head in Jessica’s lap accompanied by the occasional whine for attention. 

Greedy, Jessica had called her then, and Tiffany remembers what her fond smile had felt like against her mouth. 

She blinks, and the memory fades, but something’s different about it. Tiffany swears Jessica had meant for the dress to be white, or a cream color at the very least, but instead it’s -- 

“Oh,” Tiffany breathes. The gown is a soft pink, a muted sunrise that reminds her of old mornings curled into Jessica's side. 

“I like the color,” she finishes quietly. Jessica chuckles. 

“Me, too.” 

The silence that hangs between them is less strained than it was before, but it’s still too tense, too thick for Tiffany’s liking. The last words they’d exchanged before were awful, awful things -- on both sides -- but as much as she tries, she can’t remember exactly what was said there, either. It’s a little funny, she thinks, that she can’t remember the worst of all that led them here. 

(She remembers other things, though, like Jessica’s dad’s birthday and how when they were trainees, they both tried to bake him a cake and nearly burned down their home. She remembers how young they were, when everything in their lives was uncertain and subject to change, but not each other. Never each other.) 

“Jessi,” Tiffany starts, unable to stop herself now, “Jessi, can I love you again? Can you -- can you let me try?” 

She thinks she can’t breathe when Jessica steps forward and closes the physical gap between them, and it’s been a year since Jessica’s been this close. She looks like she’s torn, like she wants to lean in and reach for Tiffany’s hand, but keeps it firmly at her side. 

“Next time,” Jessica says with a sad little smile, “next time when we meet each other, let’s forget, okay? Let’s just be happy for each other.” 

“I -- okay,” she stammers, because what else is there to say to that and -- “Okay. Okay, Jessi.” 

Jessica nods. “Okay.” She hesitates again, but this time, she leans in and presses her lips against Tiffany’s cheek. 

She doesn’t have time to react before Jessica moves to leave, but her hand stills on the doorknob just when Tiffany turns to watch her go. 

“Who knows,” Jessica sighs a little, sounding tired, and for the first time, Tiffany realizes that maybe she’s lost Jessica, but Jessica lost eight people at once. Her head bows and she takes a deep breath, and Tiffany can picture her steeling herself before walking out. “A year’s a long time, right? I’ll be seeing you.” 

She doesn’t look back as Tiffany watches Jessica walk away from her a second time, just barely less worse than the first.


End file.
